


come a little closer

by fairylock



Category: Infinite (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, M/M, Multi, OT3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-04 09:00:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4131777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairylock/pseuds/fairylock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sungyeol's ideas are bad. Most of the time. (This isn't one of those times.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	come a little closer

Myungsoo doesn’t really know how he got into this mess. He doesn’t even know if that’s the right word for it, but what else do you call being in a relationship with two other people? Two other _men_ , at that?

He buries his nose further into the space between Sungyeol’s shoulder blades with a quiet sigh of content, feeling one of Woohyun’s legs tangle in between his from behind. He supposes it all started with him and Sungyeol hanging up flyers and putting an advertisement out on the internet for a new roommate. Their old one, Dongwoo, had moved out due to his recent engagement to his girlfriend of three years (a pretty girl with one hell of a voice named Yejin), and the two of them couldn’t afford the rent on their own.

They had gotten many calls—most of whom were from flirting, giggling girls—until one third-year culinary major Nam Woohyun seemed to be the least harmless out of everyone.

(Myungsoo now knows he was far from it.)

****  
  
  
  


“If this guy comes and sees how much of a pigsty our place is, I don’t think he’s going to want to live here, you know.” Myungsoo leans against Sungyeol’s doorway, staring down at the numerous piles of clothes thrown about the room. He wishes Sungyeol wasn’t such a slob, it’d make living together a hell of a lot easier.

Sungyeol looks up from the sketchpad settled in his lap with a raised eyebrow. “What I do with my room is none of his business, or yours, Myungsoo-yah. Clean it if it bothers you so much.” There’s a challenging look in his eyes and Myungsoo knows it’s a trick, a trick he’ll ultimately fall for and Sungyeol won’t have to lift a finger while Myungsoo cleans his room. It happens more often than he’d like to admit.

“No, it doesn’t.” Myungsoo clears his throat and they both know very well that it’s a lie.

Sungyeol grins, twirling around the pencil in his right hand. “He’ll also have to deal with your shitload of camera supplies, I think my clothes are the least of your worries,” he points out.

Myungsoo wants to retort that Sungyeol also has his own _shitload_ of play scripts and sketchpads and pencils and highlighters scattered about their apartment, but he keeps his mouth shut because arguing with Sungyeol is pointless nowadays; he can’t count the amount of times he’s lost since they’ve known each other (fourteen years) and realizes his efforts to win are now futile.

“Just...straighten up a little bit, please?” Myungsoo questions, clasping his hands together and blinking his eyes with a tilt of his head. Aegyo is disgusting in even slightly more than small doses, in his opinion, but it’s also one of Sungyeol’s weaknesses and he can’t help but use it to his advantage sometimes. Only sometimes. He swears.

By the way Sungyeol’s eyes narrow, Myungsoo knows he’s won and he grins widely. “I love you, Sungyeollie.” He places two fingers on his lips and then pushes them in Sungyeol’s direction, quickly exiting the room as he hears “you’re such a fucking asshole!”, and he pulls the door shut behind him, rolling his eyes as he hears the inevitable thud of something hitting the door where he had just been standing.

A look at the clock tells him Nam Woohyun will arrive in approximately thirty minutes and there’s a stack of dirty dishes in the sink, a pile of pencils and drawing technique books on the couch and _why the hell is one of his photography books being used as a coaster_?

He’s tempted to yell at Sungyeol and give him a lecture about using a damn paper towel at least but again, it’s pointless because Sungyeol just does whatever the hell he wants.

He sighs and takes the empty cup of coffee off of his book, grimacing at the light brown ring staining the cover. He mentally notes to put coasters on the grocery list hanging on the refrigerator—this isn’t the first time it’s happened (some of his manhwa have suffered the same fate and he had sworn to put it on the list then, but that was also the day Sungyeol had gotten him a new camera lens as a late birthday present and  he tells himself it was Sungyeol making it up to him so he was forgiven) and he knows it won’t be the last if he doesn’t buy anything.

Myungsoo takes the cup to the kitchen, only to stare in dismay at the pile of dishes in both sides of the sink. Their dishwasher had been an old one that barely did the job and had broken two months in, but without it, they end up letting bowls and coffee mugs pile up until one of them (usually Myungsoo) gets fed up with the mess and washes them all himself.

“Sungyeollie!” he calls out in a whine, not caring at all how his voice sounds. He’s done the dish-washing enough to last him a lifetime, Sungyeol can at least help him today. It is a special occasion, after all.

It’s not long before Myungsoo hears the sound of socks padding against the hardwood kitchen floor and a pair of arms wrap around his waist. “Mmhm?” Sungyeol murmurs in his ear, dropping a kiss to his neck. “I don’t quite think the counter is a comfortable place—ow! What the fuck was that for?!” Sungyeol grimaces in pain after Myungsoo slaps him on the chest with a glare.

“Do you not see this?” Myungsoo gestures at the sink. “Nam Woohyun-ssi is coming in about thirty minutes and these dishes look like the Leaning Tower of Pisa.” He frowns.

Sungyeol rolls his eyes and steps to the other side of the sink, grabbing the first dish he sees. “He’s our age, I bet he couldn’t care less about how messy this place is,” he points out. “But...you said he was doing culinary, right?” He grins, reaching over to turn on the water. “If he loves to cook I’m sure he wouldn’t mind doing the dishes either.”

Myungsoo snorts. “I doubt it,” he mutters under his breath, but he begins washing the mug in his hand.

Only to nearly drop it when the doorbell rings.

“Thirty minutes, my ass,” Sungyeol muses with a glance behind him to the clock above the stove. “Are you sure he said three o’clock?”

Myungsoo glares, quickly tearing off a paper towel to dry the mug with. “I’m positive! I even texted him this morning, he said nothing about being early.”

“Well, go on.” Sungyeol pushes him towards the living room with a slap to the ass and Myungsoo yelps, swearing to God he’s going to kill Lee Sungyeol one day. Why is he the one that has to answer the door? They are roommates—and kind of boyfriends but it isn’t like they’re going to tell Nam Woohyun that right off the bat—surely they both have to introduce themselves together?

Myungsoo keeps back a groan and then clears his throat, straightening his back and absentmindedly running his fingers through his fringe. He unlocks the door and opens it.

When he first talked to Nam Woohyun, he hadn’t really had a picture of him in mind.  But he certainly didn’t expect him to look like he had just walked out of a magazine.

(Sans the good fashion, Myungsoo observes as he looks down at the large grey t-shirt and baggy black shorts he’s wearing, but he knows he doesn’t have room to talk, with his black sweatpants and black long-sleeved shirt.)

“Nam Woohyun-ssi?” Myungsoo clears his throat again— _obviously_ it’s Nam Woohyun, who else could it be—but Woohyun gives him a grin and it’s weird to think this, Myungsoo knows, but he has an awfully nice nose.

Woohyun laughs and nods. “And you are...Kim Myungsoo-ssi?” he questions.

Myungsoo doesn’t know what else to do except for nod (this is why Sungyeol needs to be out here, damnit, _he’s_ the unawkward one), and he bites his lower lip. “Come in, come in,” he blurts, stepping aside to let Woohyun in. “Sungyeol’s in the kitchen, we were just...doing the dishes.” He manages a nervous smile and shuts the door once Woohyun walks further into the apartment, squeezing his eyes shut and letting out a small sigh once Woohyun turns away from him.

“It’s nice. I like it,” Woohyun muses as he turns back to Myungsoo with another smile.

“Hold...hold on a second, I’ll go get Sungyeol.” Myungsoo smiles back and tries not to just run into the kitchen, walking as casually as he possibly can.

“And?” Sungyeol asks without lifting his head from the plate in his hand.

Myungsoo’s smile fades and he grabs Sungyeol’s arm. “See for yourself,” he says quietly, tugging Sungyeol along with him to the living room.

“Yah, I need to put this back!” Sungyeol protests, only for his voice to falter. “Oh.” It’s so inaudible Myungsoo thinks he may have just imagined it, but he sees Sungyeol run a hand through his black hair and smooth out his shirt. He thinks he should feel jealous, jealous that Sungyeol wants to look nice for this guy, but he doesn’t.

“Sungyeol-ssi?” Woohyun asks, that smile gracing his features again.

Sungyeol nods without saying a word and that’s weird in itself: Sungyeol _always_ has something to say, and  the feeling swirling in Myungsoo’s stomach is now jealousy instead of awe and it only worsens when Sungyeol frees his arm from Myungsoo’s grip to shake Woohyun’s hand, a wide, gum-showing smile plastered on his face.

“It’s nice to meet you both,” Woohyun replies. “Most of my things are outside the door, there’s still some stuff in my car that I need to get though...cooking utensils and things,” he adds.

“We can help,” Sungyeol says quickly.

Myungsoo crosses his arms—they have a sink full of fucking dishes to wash—and is about to argue that they should at least get some cleaning done with first, but Sungyeol has a sudden grip onto his shoulder and steers him towards the door, placing the plate on the coffee table.

“Make yourself at home, Woohyun-ssi! Turn on the TV or whatever, we’ll go and get your things.” Sungyeol flashes another smile over his shoulder as he leads Myungsoo out of their apartment, closing the door behind him.

“We don’t even know what car he drives, dumbass,” Myungsoo snaps, unable to control the bite to his voice.

Sungyeol freezes in his steps with a wince. “Right,” he says under his breath. He puts his hand on the doorknob to open it, but he pauses and his free hand wraps around Myungsoo’s neck, keeping him in place as he leans down and presses a short kiss to his lips.

Myungsoo thinks it’s pathetic how one simple kiss can make everything better.

(He doesn’t mind.)

Sungyeol parts with a smile, playing with soft strands at his fingertips. “Try to make your jealousy a little less obvious, Myungsoo-yah.” He pokes Myungsoo’s nose, smile widening as it scrunches up under his touch. “Admit it, he’s hot,” he replies.

Myungsoo doesn’t want to, because—because—

“He is,” he mumbles.

Sungyeol laughs lightly. “Was that so hard?” He kisses his cheek. “Let’s grab these bags, at least.” He gestures to the suitcases and duffel bags on the floor. “We can...have a little bit of fun with him. Both of us.” He winks as he opens the door and grabs a suitcase, already rolling it into the apartment before Myungsoo can protest that _they don’t even know if Woohyun isn’t straight_ , and he sighs.

(He can’t say he isn’t looking forward to this.)

****  
  
  
  


It takes a total of two hours to get Woohyun’s things in and unpacked in the leftover bedroom. Myungsoo doesn’t think he’s seen so many recipe books and knives with hugeass blades; Woohyun is definitely going to be their chef from now on instead of them relying on take out or ramen and kimchi nearly every single day.

“Since this was originally my apartment, I got the master bedroom,” Sungyeol says with a small smirk. “Which means my own bathroom. The guest bathroom connects your room to Myungsoo’s. Just in case you...oh, I don’t know, walk in on our dear Myungsoo getting out of the shower or someth—” Myungsoo lets out some sort of high-pitched noise as he slams his hand over Sungyeol’s mouth, a nervous laugh escaping.

“Ignore him, please. I do it all the time.” Myungsoo indeed ignores the “hey!” Sungyeol lets out and decides to look around Woohyun’s room instead.

He thinks Woohyun will be a better roommate than Dongwoo—not to say he didn’t like Dongwoo, because he did (and still does), but Dongwoo had been just as messy as Sungyeol, if not more, and kept the weirdest shit lying around the place that Myungsoo would more often than not trip over (Sungyeol had said _it isn’t Dongwoo hyung’s fault you’re such a klutz_ and Myungsoo begs to differ). By the way Woohyun’s room is laid out, he believes he won’t be so bad. Hopefully.

“If you don’t mind me asking...” Woohyun’s voice breaks Myungsoo out of his thoughts. “How long have you two known each other? You seem pretty close.”

Closer than you think, Myungsoo wants to say but he keeps quiet, deciding to let Sungyeol answer this one.

“Fourteen years, I think?” Sungyeol tilts his head in thought. “Around that long, we were neighbors since we were kids. It’s...long story short, my first year of college I had two roommates that ended up moving out by the end of the year so I asked Myungsoo and my other friend Dongwoo to move in and voila.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Dongwoo hyung got engaged and figured he needed a place of his own, which is where you came in.” He grins.

Woohyun grins back and Myungsoo clears his throat. “I think I’ll like it here...Myungsoo-ssi, Sungyeol-ssi,” he replies, and Sungyeol quickly waves his hand around. “Drop the formalities, we’re roommates now, aren’t we?” Myungsoo swears Sungyeol winks and he rolls his eyes.

“You said you were twenty-two, right?” Sungyeol asks. “I won’t be for a while, so this means you’re older than both of us. _Woohyun hyung_.”

There’s a look in Sungyeol’s eyes that Myungsoo knows all too well, the look he gets when he has some sort of plan, and he knows he doesn’t imagine the slight blush rising to Woohyun’s cheeks.

_Oh._

Myungsoo glances at Sungyeol, only to receive a knowing smile in return.

A little bit of fun never hurt anyone, right?

****  
  
  
  


That night doesn’t exactly go as planned, Myungsoo believes. He knows Sungyeol had something up his sleeve, probably some master plan to flirt with Woohyun without him realizing—he is absolutely positive Sungyeol had been trying to get Woohyun to really walk in on him getting out of the shower or something, hearing Sungyeol ask extremely loudly if Woohyun needed to brush his teeth or freshen up, only to get a denial (or so he assumes) for an answer and Myungsoo thinks Sungyeol needs to learn what subtle actually means.

(So does he, Sungyeol’s told him, but he thinks outright asking while Woohyun _knows_ he’s in the shower is as obvious as you can get.)

They end up watching reruns of some drama that Sungyeol thinks is way too cliched and order pizza, although Woohyun had offered to cook dinner, as a sort of thank you for allowing him to move in.

It’s nice, having someone offer instead of playing rock, paper, scissors for it. Myungsoo loses eight times out of ten, but he ends up convincing Sungyeol to help him wash the dishes sometimes, at least. Even if it usually doesn’t last that long.

Myungsoo doesn’t think this arrangement will be so bad after all.

****  
  
  
  


Myungsoo wakes up to the smell of pancakes the next morning and it’s weird—not the smell itself, but the fact that he swears they don’t even have pancakes. They have at least three boxes of cereal on top of the fridge, but no pancakes or pancake mix.

Unless...

Myungsoo stumbles out of bed and nearly gets his legs tangled in the bedsheets (that happens more than he likes to admit), but he walks out of his room with a small yawn, only to bump right into Woohyun.

“Sorry, I was just coming to wake you up,” Woohyun says with a smile. “I made breakfast, as I didn’t get to make dinner last night,” he points out and he grabs onto Myungsoo’s hand, leading him to the kitchen.

Myungsoo suddenly feels wide awake now and he tells himself it’s not from the warmth of Woohyun’s fingers holding onto his.

“About time, sleepyhead,” Sungyeol says with a mouthful of pancakes, but an eyebrow raises at their hands and Myungsoo flushes, immediately pulling his own back and sliding into the seat at the table across from Sungyeol.  They never eat at the kitchen table, Myungsoo realizes, as they always go to the living room and watch television during every meal, but he doesn’t think he’d mind doing this more often.

“Sungyeol said you were a pain in the ass to wake up, I’m glad I didn’t have to do it,” Woohyun laughs as he sets a plate of pancakes down in front of Myungsoo.

Pain in the ass—

“Sungyeol is the lightest sleeper in the world, of course he’d say that,” Myungsoo mutters, grabbing the bottle of syrup on the table and pouring it over his pancakes. “Just because he wakes up at the slightest noise doesn’t mean—”

Sungyeol snorts quite loudly. “Let’s remember the time I had to pour a water bottle on you because you were going to miss a test in one of your classes.”

Just the mere mention of the incident makes Myungsoo wince. Waking up with freezing cold water all over you was not the best way to start the day.

(Although the aftermath wasn’t too bad, considering not even five minutes after he opened his eyes and complained about how much of an asshole Sungyeol was, Sungyeol had pulled off his drenched t-shirt and kissed him and well—the rest is self-explanatory.

He really did miss his Psychology test that day and had to make it up on a Saturday. So now he tries to wake up sooner. Tries being the keyword.)

Woohyun laughs as he sits down in the empty chair between them. “Sometimes I can sleep well but mostly I get up easily,” he muses.

“Good.” Sungyeol points his chopsticks at him. “You and I will take turns waking him up, then,” he replies. “He’s gotten better at it, though.”

Myungsoo rolls his eyes. It’s as if he isn’t even there. “I’m not a little kid, you know,” he mutters. “I don’t need people waking me up.”

Sungyeol grins that damn grin and Myungsoo knows he has something planned again. He keeps back a groan and wants to just faceplant into these damn pancakes.

****  
  
  
  


“Remember when you slept naked?” Sungyeol’s feet are propped up on the edge of the coffee table as he works on a drawing, and Myungsoo chokes on the gulp of water going down his throat, spilling some of it on the manhwa in his lap.

“What the fuck brought that on?” Myungsoo coughs repeatedly. Goddamnit Lee Sungyeol—

Sungyeol looks up with a grin. “Woohyun’s going to wake you up some days, right? I’m just thinking—”

“No,” Myungsoo immediately refuses, placing his water bottle on the table. “There’s no way in hell, I only did that because Dongwoo was never here and on the verge of moving out. I barely even know the guy.”

Sungyeol shrugs, eyes trained in the direction of the guest bathroom where the sounds of a running shower drift out. “Only suggesting it. I’m sure once he catches a glimpse of your body he’ll go gay—or at least bi— in no time. If he isn’t already.” He grins cheekily and Myungsoo’s face turns red as he resists the urge to scream.

He settles with shoving his feet into Sungyeol’s thigh and hipbone instead.

“Shut up, why am I the one that has to seduce him?” Myungsoo hisses out. “Why do you even want to seduce him?”

Sungyeol absentmindedly taps his pencil against his knee. “Not seducing, so to speak...just...gaining his attention,” he explains. “And it has to be you because—” he pauses in mid-sentence with a frown. “You’d rather me do it?” He turns to him with a raised eyebrow.

Myungsoo wouldn’t, to be honest, but he can’t seduce or flirt to save his life.

(There’s a reason why Sungyeol had made all the moves first.)

“You have that awkward cute thing going for you, Myungsoo-yah,” Sungyeol continues, reaching over to squeeze his hand.

Myungsoo rolls his eyes, turning the page of his manhwa. “That’s usually not a good thing, _Sungyeol-ah_ ,” he replies. “You do it if you’re so intent on...whatever in the world you’re planning on doing,” he sighs.

Sungyeol hums and goes back to drawing. “I will, then.” He sounds quite determined and Myungsoo keeps back a snort.

He hopes this won’t backfire, for Sungyeol's sake.

****  
  
  
  


Woohyun must be either super dense and oblivious or he’s just being polite and ignoring Sungyeol’s...advances. Myungsoo doesn’t think there’s really any other way to describe the blatant touches and winks and innuendo. Woohyun blushes, but otherwise pretends nothing had happened.

A whole month of Woohyun living with them passes and Myungsoo enters the apartment from his last class of the day to find Sungyeol screaming into one of the couch cushions.

Myungsoo just blinks, tilting his head. This isn’t really weird behavior from Sungyeol, not exactly, but...

“Are you alright, Yeol?” he asks, dropping his bag by the door and making his way to the couch.

Sungyeol looks up with a red face and narrowed eyes. “He’s straight. He has to be.”

Of course.

Myungsoo snorts and grabs Sungyeol’s legs, lifting them so he can sit down on the couch and put them in his lap. “And what in the world ever gave you this idea?” he mutters dryly, picking at a loose thread on the hem of Sungyeol’s jeans.

“Everything! No matter what I say or do he just...acts all nice about it or something and he doesn’t even flirt back! _He smiles_.”

“The nerve.” Myungsoo raises an eyebrow. He doesn’t know why Sungyeol was so positive Woohyun wasn’t straight anyway.

“I’m serious!” Sungyeol rolls over onto his back with a whine. “When you were gone I swear I did everything but literally throw myself on him and he just laughed or changed the subject. He has to be straight.”

Myungsoo doesn’t know if he should be jealous about that. “What _did_ you do?” he frowns.

Sungyeol waves his hand around, dismissing the question. “Nothing to get your panties in a bunch about, I can assure you.”

“Asshole.” Myungsoo glares, throwing Sungyeol’s legs off of his lap and sending him sprawling to the floor.

“ _I’m_ the asshole?!” Sungyeol exclaims from the ground, groaning as he sits up and rubs his head. “Woohyun said his classes lasted until five or so, it’s only three,” he says with a grin and Myungsoo already knows where this is going.

“I have to work on my portfolio,” Myungsoo replies, and it’s not exactly a lie. He has to work on it, but it isn’t due for another couple of months and it’ll take him no time with how many pictures he’s already taken.

Sungyeol rolls his eyes. “You are such a shitty liar,” he muses, standing up and brushing off his pants.

Myungsoo is _not_ , and he opens his mouth to say so, but Sungyeol pulls him off of the couch. “The only way to get this to work is to double-team him,” he changes the subject.

“You’d think with how much you talked about getting Woohyun hyung that he was your boyfriend and not me,” Myungsoo mutters.

“Ah, you’re jealous.” Sungyeol grins, reaching over to pinch his cheek. “You pout when you’re jealous, did you know? It’s adorable,” he says and Myungsoo is not adorable damnit—

“As I was saying,” Sungyeol clears his throat. “Maybe he’s just...playing hard to get or something. So your efforts are greatly needed.”

Myungsoo believes Sungyeol needs help.

“I thought you just decided he was straight,” Myungsoo replies, walking around the table to grab his bag as he walks to his room. “I don’t know what I can do that you can’t, Sungyeollie.”

He hears Sungyeol snort (in disbelief?) from behind him. “You actually have an ass to flaunt in his face, first off,” Sungyeol begins and Myungsoo rolls his eyes, opening his door and throwing his bag onto his bed. “I’m sure if you wore super tight jeans it’d bring his attention to it.” Myungsoo barely even has tight jeans in his closet for this reason alone, he doesn’t want people—

“Yah!” Myungsoo yelps loudly as a hand grabs at the ass in question and he spins to face Sungyeol with a heated face. “Hands off,” he hisses, slapping Sungyeol’s hand away from where he tries to reach around and grab it again.

“You don’t say that when we’re in bed,” Sungyeol muses and Myungsoo fucking swears—

He lifts a hand to smack the back of Sungyeol’s head, but Sungyeol’s reflexes are quick (or he’s just used to Myungsoo’s semi-violent ways) and he catches it instead, a small smirk playing at his lips. “You’re losing your touch, Myungsoo-yah,” he says. “And second of all, you’re the clingy one. You’re better at...skinship than I am, it’s awkward for me and you have no problem hanging all over someone.”

Myungsoo doesn’t know if that’s an insult or not. He frowns, tugging his arm out of Sungyeol’s grip. “So you want me to drape myself all over him like I do with you?” he asks as he walks over to his desk, grabbing his camera.

Sungyeol hums, shrugging his shoulders. “Pretty much, yeah. But make it subtle.” He then pauses, a thoughtful look on his face. “Or at least try, since I know subtle isn’t really a word in your dictionary,” he points out.

Asshole.

“Says the one who kept trying to make him go into the bathroom when I was showering,” Myungsoo says under his breath, putting down his camera on the bed as he walks over behind Sungyeol and wraps his arms around his waist.

“Like this?” He clears his throat, resting his chin on Sungyeol’s shoulder.

Sungyeol leans back with a small sigh, nodding. “But make it subtle. Whisper in his ear, play with his fingers, the bottom of his shirt.”

Myungsoo licks his dry lips and gives his own nod. “Like this?” he repeats, trailing his fingers lightly down Sungyeol’s sides to play with the hem of his t-shirt, brushing against skin as he murmurs in his ear.

He notices Sungyeol’s hitched breath and he can’t help but grin. He likes that he can still get a reaction out of Sungyeol like this, even with Sungyeol’s new apparent infatuation with Woohyun.

“Perfect,” Sungyeol says quietly. He takes a deep breath this time and Myungsoo slips his fingers up Sungyeol’s shirt, pressing his cheek against Sungyeol’s back. “T-try it when he’s making dinner.”

Myungsoo’s head snaps up, only because Sungyeol never stutters. He raises an eyebrow, deciding to test something. He changes direction and slides his fingers down to the waistband of Sungyeol’s jeans, tracing along the denim hanging on his hips. “Yeol?”

“Fuck you,” is all Sungyeol says, and Myungsoo’s eyebrows raise higher. He knows Sungyeol has sensitive skin (and so does he), but he usually doesn’t react like this.

Sungyeol turns around, immediately fisting Myungsoo’s shirt into his hand as he kisses him.

Oh.

But the kiss ends as soon as it starts and Sungyeol licks his lips. “Maybe he’ll do that to you.” His voice is soft and quiet and Myungsoo doesn’t know why something stirs in his stomach at the thought of Woohyun kissing him—a _good_ something.

“Work on your portfolio. I’ll make some popcorn.” Sungyeol lightly tugs on a stray strand of hair and grins, walking out of the room as if that—as if that just hadn’t happened.

Myungsoo stares blankly at the spot where Sungyeol had just been, putting a finger to his lips.

_Maybe he’ll do that to you._ Sungyeol’s voice runs through his head and he swallows, realizing that he thinks he might want Woohyun to kiss him. Or even Sungyeol, and isn’t that weird? Wanting someone else to kiss your boyfriend?

Myungsoo lets out a small groan and collapses onto his bed, narrowly missing his camera as he drags it to his chest in a tight grip and sighs into his pillow.

This is all Sungyeol’s fault.

****  
  
  
  


Dinner that night proves to be quite eventful, considering Myungsoo had followed Sungyeol’s instructions. When Woohyun was making hamburgers, Myungsoo had put his chin on his shoulder (it was much easier with him than Sungyeol—he’s kinda thankful Woohyun’s shorter than the both of them) and asked random questions about cooking as he hooked his fingers in the belt loops of Woohyun’s jeans. Woohyun’s pretty cute when he’s flustered, Myungsoo must admit.

Woohyun had brought up Myungsoo’s touchy ways later and Sungyeol had snorted (with a wink to Myungsoo that they hope Woohyun didn’t catch) and dismissed it as Myungsoo always being affectionate, and it was only surfacing now because he had grown more comfortable with Woohyun.

Woohyun had only laughed and reached over to ruffle Myungsoo’s hair, saying he was glad.

Myungsoo thinks it was a mission accomplished.

****  
  
  
  


It’s a Friday afternoon when it happens. Sungyeol has rehearsals for the university’s summer play, Woohyun only has morning classes and Myungsoo has the day off. If he thinks about it, Myungsoo realizes that he’s never really gotten “alone time” with Woohyun. Sungyeol is almost always there or Sungyeol is always the one alone with him and he thinks considering they’ve lived together for about three months, it is quite odd.

He’s sitting on the couch with the latest volume of _Orange Marmalade_ in his lap when Woohyun walks out of his room wearing a plain white t-shirt and a pair of boxers. Myungsoo tries to keep focused but Woohyun doesn’t seem to be embarrassed or anything—does that mean he does this when he isn’t here? When Sungyeol is?

Myungsoo almost jumps when Woohyun sits down beside him, their knees bumping together and Myungsoo’s about to ask what Woohyun wants when a hand lands on his thigh and his touch is way too hot—

“I’ve never seen two guys try so hard to seduce me.” Woohyun’s chuckle is low as his thumb rubs in circles near Myungsoo’s knee and shit he isn’t so dense after all.

“H-huh?” Myungsoo figures playing the innocent and confused act would work well enough with him—thank God Sungyeol isn’t here, otherwise—

Woohyun snorts this time with a grin. “Don’t play dumb with me, Myungsoo-yah,” he replies. “ _I_ was the one playing dumb to all of your...advances,” he muses. “I figured you were trying to freak me out but Sungyeol’s pretty relentless.”

He laughs again. “I thought it’d stop after a month or two but...I think coming up behind me the majority of the time I cook and asking me questions and holding me kind of confirms that it’s more than that.”

Myungsoo doesn’t think he’s ever blushed so hard in his life.

“I was just—” Following Sungyeol’s orders, really, but...

“It’s alright. I’m flattered,” Woohyun says, shrugging his shoulders. “Now I was only left wondering if one of you would ever kiss me like you do each other.”

Myungsoo freezes then, eyes wide as his heart pounds loudly against his chest. He knows.

“You’re not quite as secretive as you think you are,” Woohyun explains. “Next time you have make out sessions in the kitchen, make sure I’m completely asleep and not trying to get a glass of water.” The hand on Myungsoo’s thigh squeezes. “Or, at least let me join in.”

The sound that escapes Myungsoo’s mouth is not manly at all, but he turns his wide eyes to Woohyun in confusion.

“What?” he mumbles. Did Sungyeol’s dumbass seducing plan actually work? It couldn’t have.

Woohyun doesn’t say a word, only leans forward and presses their lips together.

Myungsoo doesn’t know if he should feel guilty—for kissing back and kissing someone that isn’t Sungyeol—but this is what Sungyeol had wanted, right? But Woohyun is a damn good kisser, he doesn’t think he’d be able to stop if he wanted to.

Woohyun breaks the kiss, brushing his thumb across Myungsoo’s bottom lip. “If I’m being honest...I’ve wanted to kiss both of you. Now that I have one down, I guess I have to wait until Sungyeol gets home, huh?” There’s a smirk on his face that Myungsoo is torn between kissing off and punching off, and he decides to go with the former.

(Woohyun’s face is too pretty to be marred by the bruise of a punch.)

****  
  
  
  


It’s been a week since Woohyun had kissed Myungsoo (and Sungyeol, later that night) and it’s weird. Not a bad weird, though, but a good weird. Instead of all sleeping in separate rooms, Sungyeol had decided his bed was big enough to fit three people in and Myungsoo wasn’t about to argue.

Even if the first night he had gotten kicked out of bed for being _a fucking furnace_ , and Woohyun and Sungyeol had spent too much time glued to each other’s lips. He doesn’t mind, no, he—it probably sounds creepy but he likes watching them (Sungyeol’s said time and time again that he has some sort of staring problem). Sungyeol is more compliant with Woohyun, more touchy and less sarcastic. Myungsoo thinks it should bother him and make him jealous, but he likes this side of Sungyeol.

He sometimes wonders what they talk about when they’re lying in bed before he wakes up, whispering in each other’s ears and fingers digging into skin, but once he makes any movement to indicate he’s actually awake, he’s greeted with a hand brushing his hair out of his eyes and a light kiss to his forehead.

The bed is now even more of a tangle of long limbs and dark hair but Myungsoo doesn’t mind.

****  
  
  
  


Sungyeol’s birthday is in two days. Two days and Myungsoo and Woohyun have absolutely no idea what they’re going to do—not really. Woohyun’s going to bake the cake when Sungyeol’s in class and Myungsoo is going to decorate the apartment, but other than that they have no idea what to do.

He doesn’t think it’s the smartest idea to entrust him to hanging things in high places where he can fall to his death, but Woohyun had said if he happened to fall the carpet could cushion him.

(Woohyun’s been hanging around Sungyeol too much.)

“You know him more,” Woohyun speaks up when Sungyeol had just left for one of his drawing classes and Myungsoo fiddles with the camera in his hands.

“That doesn’t mean he’s easy to shop for, hyung.” Myungsoo sighs. “Or surprise. Every time Dongwoo hyung and I tried to surprise him he’d find out somehow beforehand and it’d be ruined,” he points out, lifting up the camera and pointing it at Woohyun. He presses down onto the button to take the picture. “Maybe he’s forgotten about it this year, it’s strange that he hasn’t hounded us with questions,” he says taking a few more in succession.

“Yah.” Woohyun places his palm in front of the lens with a small pout. “Sungyeol and I should start charging appearance fees for how many pictures you take of us," he says under his breath.

Yes, he’s definitely been hanging around Sungyeol too much.

“He’s threatened to do that for years, you’re late with that.” Myungsoo lowers the camera. “But...” He hums in thought. “I have an idea.”

Woohyun stares at him warily because okay, Myungsoo knows a lot of the times his ideas aren’t the best, but he swears this one will work.

“It’s a good one, I promise. Really,” he reassures, but all Woohyun does is scoff.  

“The last idea you had involved us going to a fucking anime convention dressed as characters from _Shingeki no Kyojin_.”

Myungsoo doesn’t quite understand what was so wrong about that, they _had_ promised him he could take them anywhere during one of their small vacations. Sungyeol and Woohyun had been quite entertained.

“It was fun.” Myungsoo sets his camera in his lap as he crosses his arms. “Hyung, I promise this is a good idea. I really do.” He’s about to resort to aegyo and with how much Woohyun does it himself, he knows it’s one of his weaknesses too.

Woohyun sighs and leans forward, giving him a short and sweet kiss. He breaks apart, raising his hands. “Alright, I trust you. But please, no more cosplay.”

Myungsoo raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that?” Woohyun certainly hadn’t protested when cat-eared headbands were in the picture. (But that’s another story for another time. Maybe.)

“You know what I mean.” Woohyun rolls his eyes.

Myungsoo sticks his tongue out and stands up. “You can get him the gift then. I’ll work on my brilliant plan.”

“But what do I—”

“You’ll figure it out. You know what he likes. Surprise both of us.” Myungsoo grins as he goes into his room and slams the door, hearing a loud groan and something that suspiciously sounds like, “Goddamnit Kim Myungsoo!” and he rolls his eyes. Woohyun will find something, he has faith in him.

Or so he hopes.

****  
  
  
  


It’s D-Day, as Woohyun and Myungsoo have dubbed it, and they do believe Sungyeol had a...very fulfilling morning.

“I have class in an hour and you both attacked me,” Sungyeol whines, fingers subconsciously running through Myungsoo’s sweaty hair. “I don’t think that was fair.”

Woohyun snorts and Myungsoo watches his hand slide up and down Sungyeol’s arm, feeling Sungyeol shiver slightly against him and lean into the touch. “It’s your birthday, it’s a special day,” he retorts, and Sungyeol’s fingers leave Myungsoo’s hair to drift down to his thighs.

(In the years they’ve been together, Myungsoo’s discovered Sungyeol has quite a thing for his thighs. Now Woohyun does too and it’s both the best and worst thing in the world.)

“I should skip today, I think turning twenty-two is a good excuse that’ll work,” Sungyeol muses.

“No, no.” Woohyun blurts out, looking at Myungsoo with wide eyes over his head. “You need to go to class, Yeol.”

Myungsoo clears his throat. “Hyung’s right, we have classes later too. You’d be here all alone anyway.” It’s a lie, and he hates lying, but they need to get Sungyeol out of the apartment so they can start preparing.

“You can say it’s your boyfriend’s birthday, that’s another good excuse,” Sungyeol mumbles sleepily, letting out a yawn. “Does sex normally make you this tired?” he asks. “I just want to stay in bed all day.” He’s whining again and Myungsoo snorts quietly.

“Get up, big baby,” Woohyun sighs. “I’ll fix breakfast while you take a shower.”

Sungyeol’s eyes brighten. “Can Myungsoo join me?”

Myungsoo knows what that means and he quickly shakes his head. “I’m helping hyung make breakfast,” he replies, sending Woohyun a look.

Woohyun grins and stands up, pulling Sungyeol with him. “Now shower, lazybones. We’ll fix a big breakfast just for the birthday boy. Go.” He slaps Sungyeol’s ass, earning a high-pitched shout, and Myungsoo tilts his head, wondering if...

He crawls across the bed and reaches out to do the same.

“Fucking hell—!” Sungyeol exclaims, turning around and backing up towards the bathroom. “You’re such assholes,” he hisses with narrowed eyes.

“That’s rich, coming from the one that does it to us all the time,” Woohyun remarks. “Shower, now.”

Myungsoo laughs and gets out of bed, grabbing onto Woohyun’s hand as Sungyeol grumbles on his way to the bathroom. The door slams shut soon enough and Woohyun walks to the kitchen, Myungsoo still holding his hand.

“Are you ever going to tell me what your idea is?”

Not as long as he can help it. Myungsoo shakes his head with a smile, pulling his fingers across his lips in the motion of zipping his mouth shut.

Woohyun chuckles and squeezes his hand. “Alright, alright. Grab me the pancake batter and bacon and sausage, please?”

Myungsoo blinks, walking over to the fridge. “You weren’t kidding when you said big breakfast,” he observes. “Do I get one for my birthday, then?”

He damn well better.

“Yes, you do.” Woohyun’s bent over looking in the cabinets and Myungsoo really can’t help it, he really can’t, so...

He slaps Woohyun’s ass and quickly opens the fridge as if he’d never done anything, humming innocently as he tries to find the bacon and sausage.

“You’re such a brat,” Woohyun says under his breath, standing up straight and plopping a skillet onto the stove.

Myungsoo looks at him with a smile. “And you love this brat.” He sounds so sure of himself but to be honest, he doesn’t really know. Woohyun and Sungyeol have some sort of connection that not even Myungsoo has with Sungyeol and he sometimes feels like Woohyun thinks he’s in the way. He knows he’s being stupid but he sees them together and can’t help but think—

“I do. Although I don’t know if it’s a good thing.” Woohyun reaches over with a smile to cup his cheek and stroke the skin with his thumb. “But I do. I know you and you’re thinking that I don’t,” he says quietly and Myungsoo winces. It’s kind of scary, how they’ve only known each other for around four months or so and Woohyun already knows him (and Sungyeol) so well, already knows what he’s thinking.

“You don’t need to worry.” Woohyun gives him a short kiss and then licks his lips, gesturing to the stove. “Come on, you know he’s going to get out of the shower wondering where the hell breakfast is,” he replies.

Myungsoo snorts because it’s true—Sungyeol is quite demanding in the mornings—and leans down to pull open a drawer and grab the bacon and sausage packages when Woohyun slaps his ass and he yelps, nearly slamming his head on the ceiling of the fridge.

“Payback’s a bitch, Myungsoo-yah,” Woohyun teases and Myungsoo would normally be flustered or embarrassed but he laughs this time, shaking his head.

“Here, _Chef Nam_ ,” Myungsoo drawls sarcastically, placing the food onto the counter beside the stove.

“I like the sound of that,” Woohyun muses, but sneaks a kiss to Myungsoo’s cheek and Myungsoo actually _giggles_ this time like a fucking schoolgirl.

He thinks his two boyfriends are going to be the death of him.

****  
  
  
  


Myungsoo’s brilliant idea is to tape a long piece of string around the living room and clip pictures he’s taken of all three of them (which, over the months, have amounted to a hell of a lot) to it. Sungyeol might find it too cheesy or something but he needs to at least make use of some of these pictures.

“Are you sure he likes carrot cake?” Woohyun’s staring at the oven with a grimace on his face. “Or are you purposely telling me something he hates?”

“I would never do that,” Myungsoo mutters and he’s well aware he’s pouting but fuck it. “I would never lie to you, hyung.”

Woohyun raises his hands in surrender. “Okay okay, I believe you. Don’t do that,” he winces, leaning over to kiss his pout away. “It’s almost ready and Sungyeol will be back soon...is everything set up?”

Myungsoo nods, eyes roaming around the streamers and balloons scattered about the living room and kitchen. “What’d you get him?” he wonders, stopping on the wrapped up gift in the center of the coffee table. “It’s supposed to be from both of us, you know,” he points out.

“And that’s for you to find out when he opens it.” Woohyun grins.

Myungsoo wants to whine and stomp his feet to get an answer but he sighs. “Will he like it?”

“Of course he will.”

Myungsoo studies him. “Really?”

“Yes, yes, now go...read your manhwa or something before I make you clean this mess up,” Woohyun says, gesturing to the dirty kitchen counters.

Myungsoo winces and nods, quickly rushing off to the living room.

Sungyeol better like his gift or he swears Nam Woohyun is a dead man.

****  
  
  
  


Sungyeol is, for once, completely surprised when he walks into their apartment. He actually cries and Myungsoo isn’t really surprised by that—he had cried at the wallpaper at his aunt’s wedding—but he and Woohyun give him a hug and he calms down. They’re eating cake when Woohyun says that the gift on the table is a fake, and the real one is in his bedroom.

Myungsoo knew he shouldn’t have left Woohyun to buying the present.

“What do you even need a fake gift for, hyung?” Myungsoo hisses as they walk into Woohyun’s room (not like he sleeps in it).

“To appease you,” Woohyun answers simply, going over to the bed and grabbing a box wrapped with small holes in it—

“You didn’t,” Myungsoo mutters, grabbing onto the box and holding it up to his eyes.

Woohyun glares and takes it back. “Shut up, just get in there.” He pushes at Myungsoo’s back until they’re in the living room again with a slightly confused and still red-eyed Sungyeol.

“This is really it?” Sungyeol asks with a raised eyebrow, reaching out for the box.

“Happy birthday, Yeol.” Woohyun smiles and Myungsoo does the same.

If it’s a damn snake or lizard or something not cuddly, Myungsoo really is going to make sure Woohyun is dead.

Sungyeol sets the present down and opens it, eyes immediately widening as he takes out the orange and white striped kitten within. “Guys...” he mumbles.

“Please don’t cry again,” Woohyun whispers, sitting down on the couch beside Sungyeol.

Sungyeol rolls his eyes. “I was not going to cry,” he says under his breath, stroking the kitten’s fur.

And Sungyeol says _he’s_ the shitty liar. Myungsoo sits down on Sungyeol’s other side, already reaching for his camera.

“I’ll name her...” Sungyeol murmurs in thought, biting his lower lip as he lifts up the kitten. “Jureumi.”

Myungsoo nearly drops the damn camera, blinking in confusion. “She has no wrinkles, Yeol.”

“Let him name her what he wants to, it’s his cat,” Woohyun says in an amused tone and Myungsoo can’t help the “kiss up” he mutters under his breath, lifting his camera up again.

“She can be all of ours,” Sungyeol speaks up with a smile, setting Jureumi onto his lap. “This wasn’t just an excuse for us to get a pet, was it?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Of course not,” Woohyun answers with a mock look of hurt on his face. “We...didn’t really know what to get you and you said you liked cats not long ago, so...” he shrugs his shoulders, sheepishly grinning.

Myungsoo points the camera at Jureumi, quickly taking a few pictures. “She’s so cute,” he mumbles, reaching out to scratch her behind the ears.

“Good job, hyung.” Sungyeol turns to Woohyun, a light laugh escaping from his lips. “He’s going to spend all of his time with the kitten and never have any time for us.”

Myungsoo immediately looks up. “I will not!” he exclaims. Just because he has a love for cats doesn’t mean he’d abandon his _boyfriends_. “But she’s a kitten, you need to pay attention to her,” he points out.

Sungyeol picks Jureumi up and stands, already walking towards his room. “What’s a better way to do that than to cuddle in bed?”

Myungsoo blinks again, only because Sungyeol never really was one for cuddling—even after they had started this with Woohyun—and Myungsoo would take as much as he possibly could.  

“Sounds good to me,” Woohyun muses, already following Sungyeol into the room. Myungsoo sets his camera on the table and rushes after them, only to find Sungyeol and Woohyun on separate ends of the bed, an empty place right in the middle.

“We saved you the best spot.” Sungyeol grins, and Myungsoo can’t help but collapse onto the bed, making a contented noise as he burrows into the covers. It’s a sweet gesture, and he smiles.

Jureumi meows from her place on Sungyeol’s stomach and he strokes her fur again. “I think she’s telling us to go to sleep,” he replies.

“I agree,” Myungsoo mumbles, closing his eyes already. Not that he can speak cat or anything, but he’s exhausted and a nice nap sounds perfectly fine to him.

****  
  
  
  
  


“Go back to sleep.” Woohyun’s voice is scratchy and rough and Myungsoo blinks, wondering how the hell he even knew he was awake.

“You breathe differently, dumbass,” Sungyeol mumbles, no malice or bite to his tone at all, and now Myungsoo’s positive the two of them have some sort of power that allows them to read minds. He hadn’t even said anything at all to show that he was awake—

Sungyeol turns over onto his side, facing Myungsoo with Jureumi cuddling back up against his chest. He throws a long leg over both of Myungsoo’s and Woohyun’s, earning a grunt from the latter. “Your knees are bony as fuck, Yeol,” Woohyun protests, moving his own legs and Myungsoo frowns. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to be in the middle after all.

“Can we just go back to sleep?” Myungsoo’s about to start whining and he knows Sungyeol and Woohyun do not want that.

“You were the one that woke up,” Sungyeol points out and Myungsoo closes his eyes so he doesn’t roll them. It’s not his fault they’re light sleepers.

There’s a hand sliding around his waist that Myungsoo knows belongs to Woohyun and Myungsoo tilts his head closer to Sungyeol’s neck, breathing in his scent. “Goodnight,” he mumbles.

Sungyeol’s legs slip further between his and Woohyun’s and Myungsoo knows they’re all going to wake up with random bruises and sore limbs but he can’t bring himself to care. He thinks he can live with going to sleep like this every night.

 


End file.
